Bent on a Broomstick
by seshhat
Summary: Bella desperately wants a broomstick.  Her mother flatly refuses.  Andromeda is inclined to agree, and Narcissa couldn't care less.  But Bella is determined to fly...


**B****ENT ON A ****B****ROOMSTICK**

Bellatrix's hands were plastered to the glass. Her nose so close that condensation was beginning to form on the window that was already besmirched with a myriad of other hand prints. The poor devil who had to keep this particular shopfront looking perfect should surely be asking for a raise.

The object of her unwavering attention was mounted on a blue stand. Long and slender, it proudly boasted its name as the Comet 230. Best broom around. Really, it was the only broom around, unless you were just after something to hobble to your great-aunt's cottage in the next village and back. In that case, buy a Shooting Star. But if you wanted a proper broom, in order to do proper flying, you had to have a Comet.

Dragging her eyes away, Bella looked around hopefully for her mother. Druella was nowhere in sight. Neither was Andromeda or Narcissa. Typical. This was _her_ big day, and no one was paying her any attention. Mother probably was looking at _books_ for crying out loud. As if there was nothing else to school but that.

If only she could convince her mother that a broomstick would be needed. Think of what a show she could make at school on her first day then! But Druella had never allowed the girls to have a broom. It was too dangerous. She bought them "Feed Me" Vampire dolls which ate a special look-alike blood mixture, (and had caused quite a stir among certain circles when they had been released), and even once a tarantula which had escaped after Bella had dropped it while teasing Narcissa, but never a broomstick. Bella rolled her eyes as she thought of what her mother had said the last time she had pleaded for one.

"No, you'll fall off it and break your neck. You're so clumsy Bellatrix. I will not allow you a broomstick."

Her thoughts were broken when the real voice of her mother sharply caught her attention.

"Bellatrix! Come now!" commanded Druella, and with more than a slight hint of reluctance, her daughter obeyed. She caught up with her mother at the entrance to a robe shop.

"Oh, Mamma, do I have to?" whined Bella.

"Well, how else do you expect to get a good set of robes?"

"Can't we just, I dunno, buy them off the rack?"

Druella was shocked. "Certainly not! Who ever heard of such a thing? I will not send you to school in improperly fitted robes. You will stand there and have Madam Ingrid measure you."

Grumbling to herself, Bellatrix stood on the stool in the centre of the shop. Casting her eye around with a sharp glare, she noticed her sisters were nowhere to be seen. _Probably having ice-cream or something. They don't have to be as bored as me._

An elderly woman shuffled out of the back store-room. Squinting at Bella through a pair of tiny pince-nez glasses, she asked Druella "Hogwarts, hmm?"

"Yes," replied Mrs Black. "Three sets of fine black robes. I want them made of good quality material, nothing cheap and nasty. Fully lined. Also one black cloak of finely woven wool, lined with cashmere. And a set of gloves, also black."

"Am I getting school robes, or just something to match my name?" grumbled Bellatrix.

Druella fixed her with a stern eye, and Bella took the hint. Despite what her mother seemed to believe sometimes, Bellatrix was not thick. She remained silent as Madam Ingrid wove about her with a long measuring tape. When she was done, the seamstress Summoned long lengths of cloth from the store-room. The cloth arranged itself around Bella, and began to mould itself into a set of robes. Madam Ingrid clucked and fussed the material, snipping pieces off here, magically stitching a seam there. Bella closed her eyes and imagined herself flying on a brand new Comet 230. She had just released a great big sigh, when Madam Ingrid clapped her hands. Bella opened her eyes and glanced down.

Over the top of her dress was now a brand new set of Hogwarts school robes. The material was soft to the touch, without a pull or blemish anywhere. Tiny stitching almost invisible to the eye hemmed the collar and cuffs, as well as the neat seams. Druella stood up from the couch where she had been sitting while she waited, to inspect the woman's work. After what seemed an age to Bellatrix, her mother pronounced the garment satisfactory.

"Can you have the rest ready today?"

"Of course, madam. I have all the young lady's measurements. Two more sets will be no problem."

"Don't forget the cloak and the gloves."

"Of course not. It shall all be ready at, say, 2 o'clock. Is that to your liking madam?"

Druella Black nodded, and indicated to Bellatrix to follow her out of the store. Outside in the street, they found Narcissa and Andromeda waiting.

"Oh, Mother! I saw the most sweetest little owl in the Emporium. Can I show him to you?" Andromeda implored.

"Not now. We must go and get Bellatrix's school books and equipment."

Four hours later, Bella sat in the front parlour dutifully marking her new schoolbooks with her name in an untidy scrawl. Her mother sat stonily embroidering a dark green suit for her youngest nephew. Bella scowled. Regulus was about ten months old, and she hadn't seen him since last Christmas. Aunt Walburga refused to take him out of Grimmauld Place ("He's such a delicate little boy"), and almost certainly disapproved of Bella and her sisters attending them there. Ever since Sirius' second birthday the year before, when Bella had given him a pet tiger snake and then accidentally released it (they still hadn't found it anywhere), Walburga had objected to her nieces coming anywhere near the house. The girls had only seen Sirius a couple of times since then, including the previous Christmas.

"Wipe that frown away, Bellatrix. It's not becoming," Druella remarked.

Bella did her best, but failed miserably when she merely substituted the scowl for a deprived frown. "Mama, are you sure I –"

"I have already been through this once before. How many times must I repeat things to you Bellatrix? However, if you prove in attending to your studies, then I shall think about it."

"I bet other parents won't bother about such stupid conditions," grumbled the heavily disappointed girl.

Druella placed her embroidery aside. "_Other_ parents are not from families with impeccable reputations. Nor from pure wizarding families with a long and respectable lineage. Remember your duty to uphold the pride of your family Bellatrix. What is it your father has instructed you?"

"Toujours Pur – The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Revere your ancestry in its glory and purity for that is where the true pride of the Black family lies. Hold yourself above all others, for that is where you rightfully belong. To be a Black is to be of the finest quality," Bellatrix duly recited. Boring and long-winded though it was, she still couldn't suppress the little shiver of delight that coursed through her when she thought of the nobility of her bloodline. To be proud of their obvious prestige over most other wizards had been ingrained into the Black girls from birth. For Bellatrix it signified a right to treat lowly others with contempt. Narcissa saw it as the means to act as though she were wizarding royalty. Andromeda saw only the necessity of retaining the honour of the family.

Druella eyed her sternly. "Mark my words young lady – if you so much as do one thing to place even a spot of tarnish on the name of Black you will rue the day." When Bellatrix looked sceptical, her mother added "I shall send you to your grandmother to see if she can't do something about your behaviour." Bellatrix blanched. Live with her father's mother? She'd never be able to cope under the iron fist of old Irma Black's control. Not to mention that she lived at Grimmauld Place, where Bella's sharp-tongued Aunt Walburga also lived.

"So, you want me to be a prim, prissy girl when I get to school? Suck up to the teachers, play nicely with the Mudbloods, obey all the rules, do my homework neatly – that sort of thing?" she said, with a trace of disgust undisguised in her voice.

Druella sighed. "I leave it to your good judgment. Obviously I do not expect you to lower yourself to _certain_ levels of association. But please, remember that your father is a respected member of the school council, and it would not be fitting for his daughter to be caught misbehaving in _certain ways_."

Respected. Respectable. Such useless words. But Bellatrix had picked up a thinly veiled hint in her mother's caution. Basically she wanted Bellatrix to keep her contempt for the Mudbloods to a controllable and proper level. No deliberate intents. Fine, Bella would behave, but she that didn't mean she had to be nice. Firmly she marked her name across the inside cover of _Transfiguration for the Beginner_, and then dumped the book in the pile.

"There – done. Can I go now?"

"Yes you may. Just be sure to think about what I have said."

Druella watched as her daughter dashed out of the room. She shook her head. One day Bellatrix would see. You couldn't just openly declare your beliefs and put into practise that which was theorised and discussed behind closed doors. It was all about keeping up a façade. Druella had held a mask against her face since she was old enough to understand. Her family was very similar to the Blacks. The Rosiers were the cream of Wizarding society. For generations beyond memory they had been sure to allow no mixed blood to taint their lineage. Purity was something the elite wizarding families held dear.

Late in her second year at school, Druella had witnessed the furore of what happened when controversial personal beliefs were aired openly. A Muggleborn girl had been killed, and despite the teachers trying to hush it up, by the end of the affair everyone knew she had died as a result of the Chamber of Secrets being opened. Every Slytherin student (indeed, even the entire school) knew that the founder of their house, the wizard who had reputedly built the Chamber, had despised any person of Muggle descent. In the aftermath, Wizarding society had been awash with outcries against any who even suggested that Mudbloods had no place learning magic. Young Druella Rosier had been taught to keep her mouth shut, and old teachings were hard to change.

Druella knew that the Black family only lightly hid their contempt and disgust for anyone they considered inferior to themselves (which counted for a majority of the population). But still she remained reserved and tried to instil the same in her daughters. Practice and air your beliefs by all means, but not in a public arena where you could be condemned, and ultimately lose your standing in society. To remain concealed was far better than the grievous indignity of disgrace .

Bella scuffed her way up the grand staircase and along the first floor hallway. It was quite a walk to her room in the South Wing, and along the way Bellatrix took small satisfaction in re-aligning five portraits (much to the outrage of the inhabitants), smudging three mirrors, and ruffling up the carpets. She stomped through the hall where the rooms belonging to her sisters were. A door on her left opened with a barely audible creak as she passed.

"Bella?" queried Andromeda. "I thought it was a herd of wild dragons, but it was only you," she smiled.

Bellatrix glared at her. _Only you_? Even her own sister obviously didn't think that she, Bellatrix, was worth much in this family. "Why don't you go talk about me to someone else. Mother would happily regale all the reasons why I'm a hopeless case, and not good enough for anything."

Andromeda reeled back a little from the snarl in her sister's voice. "I didn't mean…is everything okay?"

Bellatrix kicked the wall in frustration. "One measly broomstick. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Well, I'm sure Mamma had her reasons…"

"Oh, spare me the Mamma's Little Angel talk. She just doesn't want me to have it because she thinks I'm stupid."

"No she doesn't," said Andromeda softly.

"Do you think I'd fall off and break my neck?" Bellatrix demanded.

"You are kind of clumsy sometimes, Bella…"

Bellatrix threw up her hands in disgust. "Fine. Just fine. I'll show you all one day. I'll be the best darn flyer Hogwarts has ever seen. And when I finish school I'll have a whole fleet of brooms – one for every day of the month. No! One for every day of the year! And I'll never walk anywhere," she continued, exclaiming loudly as she marched to her bedroom. "I'll _fly_." Bella paused at her bedroom door, and turned around to see if the desired look of shock was on her sister's face yet. But a carved mahogany door, closed and hiding the occupant of the room from sight was all that presented itself. Bellatrix glared across the hallway, as though willing that part of the old house to collapse, burying her sister beneath a pile of rubble. When not even a crack appeared, she turned herself back to her bedroom door. Reaching for the handle, she pulled… and found it locked.

"Stupid house-elf!" she cried, and kicked the door. Senile, useless, stupid-looking creatures. Suddenly, in her current mood, old Aunt Elladora's habit of beheading old house-elves didn't seem quite so disgusting. This particular house-elf surely had surely been serving the family since Blackmere Hall was built, and the original house dated to sometime in the middle ages. Bella has lost count of the times it had cleaned her room, and then locked the door. Or moved things from one sister's room to another. She wished that the vile creature would just appear, so she could give it a good swift kick too.

Slumping to the floor, her black hair falling in a tangled mess about her face, the eldest Black daughter couldn't feel anything but anger towards her disloyal family.

"Uphold the family honour indeed! Bah!" What was the point in coming from a prestigious family if you couldn't always have what you wanted? It would serve them all right if when Bella finally did get a broomstick she flew away for good and joined a troupe of marauding witches!

Bellatrix snorted. She could just picture the look on her mother's face if she did just that. Or better yet, her Grandmother and Aunt Walburga's reactions!

A brilliant thought like a comet across the night sky flashed through Bellatrix's mind. What if she didn't need a broomstick to fly? She was a witch, wasn't she? And if the blood running though her veins wasn't the most purest of blood, and therefore giving her the greatest magical strength, then what was the point in being alive?

Bellatrix ran her fingers through her long black hair. She couldn't do it alone, no – she'd need a wand. And preferably a high platform or something. And no witnesses, just in case it didn't work first time around…

On the second floor of the North Wing was a large room adjoining the grand library that Bella's father Cygnus used as his private office. Entry was strictly forbidden, as it was here that Cygnus conducted affairs that were of no business to his daughters. The office also contained the only entrance to the Inner Library – a storeroom of what Bella knew to be very rare and perhaps highly illegal artefacts and books, of mostly a Dark nature. But most importantly for Bella (at the moment at least), was that Cygnus kept a wand mounted on the wall of the office. Not his own, of course. That he kept on his person at all times, as any self-respecting wizard would. No, the wand on the wall had belonged to Cygnus' grandfather, the great Phineas Nigellus, late Headmaster of Hogwarts. Her father would be absolutely furious at Bellatrix for even contemplating borrowing the wand, but in her present mood she didn't particularly care.

She was sure that her father was not home, but she paused to listen carefully at the door, just in case. Hearing nothing, she steeled herself, and opened the door just a crack. Well-oiled hinges made barely a sound as the door tentatively opened further and further. Peering in, and satisfied that the room was empty, Bella crept in. She cast her eyes about the room, and smiled gleefully when she spotted the wand hanging on the wall opposite the desk. Clambering on an antique carved-wood sofa, she stretched out her fingers and grasped the frame off the wall. Precious moments were spent on the floor wrestling the back of the box-like frame in order to free the object. At last, she gripped in her hands a real wand!

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so widely as she dramatically swished the wand through the air. That prat Ollivander reckoned that you would never get such good results from using a wand that was not your own. Bellatrix's new wand was packed away, who knew where, by her overly guarded mother. Druella didn't trust Bellatrix not to try the thing out before she got to school. So Bella would make do with the wand of an ancestor.

She was not a complete fool. Bella knew that in order to do magic, one had to know spells and such. Hence the fact that she was being shipped off to school at the beginning of September. But she also knew that when she and her sisters had been very little, they had been known to cause magical things to happen without the aid of a wand. Accidental magic, her mother had called it. Quite usual for small children with magical gifts. As they grew older, control seemed to come more naturally.

So in the absence of any knowledge of particular spells, Bella supposed that she could try to harness some of that 'accidental magic'. The wand was necessary too – how could you be a proper witch without a wand? It just wasn't the same, nor was it right. Besides, without a wand, she wouldn't be able to make the accidental magic look like intentional magic.

It called for strong willpower, and anyone who knew Bellatrix even half so well as they imagined would have known that willpower was not something this eleven year old lacked. With the wand grasped firmly in her hand, Bella had the confidence to take on the world. Her sisters flashed into her thoughts, and she was suddenly sure that it wasn't possible for her to fail. Of course she had to have them be there, if only so she had proof of her power.

So, she had a wand. Now for the audience and the stage…

Narcissa heard the knock but ignored it. She knew exactly who it would be. Bella always barged in, house elves didn't come unless called, and her mother didn't come at all. Andromeda was probably bored, and wanted someone to be with. And Narcissa wanted to be alone.

Not alone entirely though. Turning her back to the door, she carefully picked up the pink china teapot. One hand delicately resting on the lid, she pored 'tea' into a matching pink china cup. Smiling at her guests, she did the same for three more teacups, before replacing the teapot on the white tray in the centre of the table.

Sitting ramrod straight on the little painted chair, Narcissa looked every inch as porcelain as the three dolls sitting with her. She had brushed her white-blonde hair until it shined and fixed a broad pink ribbon in an Alice band to keep it out of her face. Here in her room, away from her mother, she was wearing her second best dress and shoes. Nothing else would be suitable when you are entertaining a duchess and her ladies.

Tap, tap, tap. Andromeda was still trying. With a sigh, Narcissa excused herself from the table, and went to open the door a fraction. Andromeda's face peered in.

"Cissa? Do you want to come outside for a game? Or just a walk? I think the swans might be on the lake again," the older girl asked hopefully.

Narcissa shook her head. The outdoors were overrated in her opinion. "Ask Bella," she said. Andromeda hesitated a moment and then turned to stare at Bellatrix's firmly shut door. She shook her head.

"No, Bella's already in a mood. I don't want my head bitten off. Better just to let her sulk for the evening. She'll be right as rain tomorrow." Andromeda replied. "Do you know why she's mad this time?"

"Does she need a reason?" Narcissa said curtly, glowing inwardly at how impressive she had sounded. Just like her mother when she spoke to anyone outside the family.

At that moment a whirlwind burst into the hall behind Andromeda. Bellatrix's eyes were bright with an kind of madness, and she was brandishing a long thin stick.

"Where did you…? Is that….?" Andromeda started, staring at Bella's hands.

"A wand," Bella confirmed. She thrust her nose into the air. "Hang Mother and her stupid rules. I'm a witch – I don't need a broomstick to fly," she declared.

Narcissa raised her one eyebrow. "You can't – _fly_ – using that wand."

Her eldest sister looked affronted, and she marched over to stare down at the seven-year-old. "Why not?" Bella challenged the remark.

"Because you don't know any spells yet," little Narcissa stated matter-of-factly, refusing to be intimidated by Bella's stance.

Bella laughed, and spun away to dance around the hall. "You don't need spells. _Babies_ can do magic without spells!"

Andromeda looked dubious. But Bella turned on her heels and strolled back down the corridor, calling over her shoulder, "Well, are you coming or not?"

Narcissa sighed, and pulled her cloak off the back of her door. She'd have to postpone her tea party, otherwise Bella would create hell as she always did when things didn't go according to her plans.

Andromeda trailed behind the other two as the headed for the stairs, wryly noticing the indignant muffled whispers of the occupants of several misaligned portraits. Served half of them right, she thought, though she wouldn't admit it aloud. Most of these old inhabitants of Blackmere Hall were highly critical of the youngest generation. More than once Andromeda had been held up in a lecture about the proper conduct befitting a young lady of fortune and bloodline, by a watercolour or a heavily ornamented gilt frame. One toe out of line, and they had their ways of informing the girls' mother. Or worse, their grandmother. Nasty old great-aunt Elladora was the one who had insisted on two paintings adorning walls in both the manor, and the house in Grimmauld Place. Her way of keeping her thumb pressed hard on top of everyone. Despite the fact she had died long before either of the girls had been born, Andromeda and Bellatrix particularly resented her interference.

Some way ahead of Andromeda, Bella practically skipped down the stairs, and then the three sisters wove their way through a series of narrow halls, and out one of the back entrances. Late afternoon sunshine still spread across the small courtyard, casting shadows in corners dominated by the old carriage house. Vacant for many years now, the old stone out-building used to house the lovely carriages of the Black family, when such things had been fashionable. The small storage rooms in the loft were now the residence of the small army of house-elves. Bella and Andromeda used to play there, until the day that Bella had tried swinging from a rope tied to the roof, and nearly decapitated a tiny Narcissa in a reckless game. Druella had banned the girls ever entering the carriage house again.

Beyond the carriage house lay the grounds of the estate. Andromeda had seen advertisements for muggle gardens and estates that were open to the public, and despite her bias, she was sure they were nowhere near as beautiful as her family home. No muggle had ever stepped foot beyond the gates; Cygnus Black had explained to his daughters that the estate was Unplottable, and had significant Repelling charms attached to the boundaries. None of this had made a lot of sense at the time, but Andromeda couldn't imagine a muggle coming to her home. She couldn't even picture a muggle and a Black talking.

Her current favourite spot in the grounds was the old oak by the lake. Thick branches clustered close together made an ideal climbing tree. Half-way up was a long way from the ground, and an excellent perch from which to view everything. It was also a great place to be alone. Bella hadn't yet discovered her sister's hiding place, and even if she had, she wouldn't be interested. Bellatrix didn't quite get the concept of how nice it could be to just sit still.

Andromeda stopped and frowned. So much for the oak being her secret spot; Bella was now racing towards it, and throwing herself onto the lowest branch. Shoulders falling, Andromeda caught up to Narcissa.

"She's not really going to try and fly, is she?"

Narcissa gave her sister a look as though she had just asked if rain really fell from the sky. "Of course she is. This is Bellatrix, isn't it?" Narcissa sniffed. "Look at her – she thinks she's a bird or something."

Bellatrix had clambered to a branch six feet from the ground. Arms outstretched, wand clenched firmly between her teeth, she was carefully stepping out along the branch like high-wire performer. Her foot slipped once, but she waved her arms and caught her balance again. Near the end, with the branch bending dangerously, Bella stood stiffly erect. Precariously she took hold of the wand. Down below, Andromeda and Narcissa had arrived at the foot of the tree and were staring up at her. Narcissa was barely hiding her contempt for her eldest sister's apparent folly, while Andromeda's face was white and lined with worry. Bella snorted.

Typical. They didn't think she could do it. Andromeda was no different to their mother: she thought she'd break her neck. And silly Narcissa – what would a seven year old girl know about magic anyway? She'd show them both.

Bella flexed her fingers, and could almost feel the power racing through her to the tip of the wand. She closed her eyes and imagined how it must feel to be flying. Soaring through the air, light as a robin, mighty as an eagle. Bellatrix Black: Mistress of the air.

Bending her knees slightly, Bella waved the wand around her head. Her eyes still firmly closed, she concentrated on the sensation of power within. She felt a burst, and she leaped. Up…up…the wind flew through Bellatrix's hair as she experienced such indescribable joy at achieving broom-less flight. So ecstatic was she, she didn't notice the ground that was rushing up to meet her….

Andromeda and Narcissa witnessed the sickening crunch as their elder sister hit the hard earth. Bella landed flat, arms outflung, wand gone, hair twisted around her face. A scream bit through the air, and Narcissa had to slap Andromeda to drag some sense back into her.

"She's dead!" moaned Andromeda. "She's dead! Bella's dead! Why didn't we stop her?!" Andromeda's emotions ran away with her. She'd seen Bellatrix do some silly stunts before – like the time when she had sworn black and blue that she was a born animagus, and could turn into an eel. Andromeda had had to drag her sister spluttering and cold from the lake, but at least Bella had been kicking up a very lively fuss at the time. Now she was lying still and unmoving.

Narcissa's legs were shaking. Was it true? Was Bella really dead? Little Narcissa, who liked to pretend she was so grown up didn't fancy the idea being so close to death. "I'll – I'll go and get Mamma…" she said, not wanting to remain with her possibly dead sister.

The prone body groaned. Andromeda nearly jumped out of her boots, and then dashed to Bella's side while Narcissa remained rooted to the spot. "Bella!" cried Andromeda. "Bella, oh – are you dead?"

Bellatrix groaned again, and pulled one of her arms back to her side. Groggily she pushed herself up into a sitting position, swaying slightly as the world rotated in front of her eyes. A thin gash trickled blood from her forehead, and leaves and grass blades were stuck to her skin. But she was most definitely alive. For one thing, ghosts didn't bleed – of that Andromeda was sure.

Bella couldn't have cared less about whether she was a ghost or not. The moment the tree stood still, and her sister's doppelgangers had merged back into one, she cast her sight about for the wand. One try had failed, but the next would not. She was determined to succeed. Failure was weak, and as the eldest Black daughter, she had a right to be admired by her sisters for her superior power.

"Where is it?" she demanded croakily.

Andromeda looked bewildered. "Where's what?"

"The wand!"

"Oh Bella – you nearly died! You can't be wanting to try flying again!"

"I can do it – I wasn't concentrating hard enough. Just find me the wand!"

Where had the blasted thing gone? Bella hauled herself to her feet unsteadily and began a mad search through the grass. Andromeda sat stubbornly in place, refusing to help find something that she was sure would lead Bella to her death. Narcissa recovered from her frozen shock to join Bella's search. It was she who found it in a ragged clump of bushes, and then tried to hide it in the folds of her cloak. But she wasn't quick enough. Bella's sharp eyes saw the wand, and she dove for it. Alarm bells rang in Narcissa's head as she registered the wild-eyed girl furiously reaching for the narrow tool. Thinking quickly, Narcissa tossed it to Andromeda, who didn't even think: she bounded to her feet and ran.

Fleet footed she sprinted over the lawn, and round the carriage house. Bella tore after her sister, and with each step she gained on Andromeda. The fleeing possessor of the wand did a mad circuit of the rose garden, and fled back towards the oak tree. Narcissa waved at her, gesturing to the house, but in the minute that Andromeda understood and spun on her heels to run toward the house, Bella caught up to her. There was a struggle, easily weighted in Bellatrix's favour as the tallest and strongest of the pair. Sparks zapped from the end of the wand being gripped by two different hands, and then there was a loud bang. Andromeda and Bellatrix are flung apart, landing ten feet away. Andromeda yelped a cry of pain; she had landed awkwardly on her ankle and twisted it in such a way that no ankle is made to be twisted. Bella hardly noticed her second tumble of the day. She scrabbled back and seized the wand triumphantly.

A pop sounded behind her. Startled, Bella swung around and instinctively pointed the wand at he spot where her would-be assailant (probably a treacherous sister no doubt) was coming from. A surge of heat raced through her, and in the next moment a small figure was thrown sky high.

The elf landed in the oak tree, caught in the branches, and stayed there motionless and face down.

In horrified silence the three sisters gathered around, Andromeda supported by Narcissa.

"Oh no – what have we done?!" Andromeda cried. "We've killed it!"

Narcissa squirmed under the pressure of Andromeda leaning on her shoulder. She'd had enough of Bellatrix's dramatics and Andromeda's over-emotional displays for one afternoon.

"It's probably just stunned," she said. She wanted to return to the house, drop Andromeda somewhere and go back to her tea party.

Andromeda however was convinced that the house elf in the tree was dead, and she was digging her nails into Narcissa's collar bone. Narcissa reached up, unclenched her sister's fingers, and reminded her that she had been sure that Bella had died. "And yet there she is – still very much alive." Her tone suggested that at times it might be easier if Bella did injure herself in some serious way. But it seemed she was impervious to mortal danger.

Andromeda knew that they would have to tell their mother, Druella, exactly what had happened. Narcissa folded her arms in stubbornness. "I wasn't a part of any of this," she stated flatly. "I told you it was stupid from the beginning."

"No, of course not," agreed Andromeda, wobbling on one foot. "I never meant that. Bella was the one who did it. She'll have to tell Mamma what she did."

Bella gave her unfaithful sisters a dark look. How dare they blame everything on her! She should have left them out from the start. Why had she even bothered to invite them? "Let's just go inside and forget it."

"But the elf!" cried a shocked Andromeda.

"So?" replied Bella. "It's just an elf. Someone else will find it, and if it's dead, then it doesn't matter."

The three girls stood in a stalemate. Bella was adamant she wouldn't be telling anyone anything. Truth be told, she was afraid of what her mother might say, and afraid of being sent to Grimmauld Place for the remainder of the holidays. Andromeda's conscience prickled her: she wanted something done, but didn't want to bring any blame down on herself. Narcissa couldn't have cared less either way what happened to Bella or the elf, as long as she remained blameless.

In the end, Druella herself solved the problem. She had sent an elf to fetch the girls for dinner, and no one had arrived. Thoroughly annoyed, Druella had ordered the meal to be taken back to the kitchens to keep warm, and then she had stood in the doorway of the dining room for a full five minutes, impatiently tapping her foot. Where were those lazy girls? They knew fair well that dinner was served at six-thirty precisely every evening. The fact that Cygnus was expected to be home late was no excuse to break the unwritten rules of the house.

When there was still no sign of the girls, Druella's temper rose several notches. She headed directly to the South Wing, and checked her daughter's rooms. Narcissa's was immaculate, and empty of any life. Andromeda's room was warmly lit by a fire, but there was no one warming themselves within. Bellatrix's door was locked, and Druella suspected that she might be barricading herself inside to sulk over the wretched broomstick. But no – Bella's room was cold and also empty. The coldness was due to the window being wide open to the late afternoon breeze. Druella stepped briskly across the room to shut the sash, and caught a glimpse of three tiny figures out on the lawn.

Lips pursed, Druella Black came marching across the grounds toward her errant daughters. Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted her mother and hurriedly tried to pull her cloak around her, but for the second time that afternoon she was too slow for quick sight. Druella scolded her thoroughly for wearing her second best dress to play outside in the filth.

Andromeda limped towards her mother, eager to head off any misinterpretations and explain things as best she could. But Druella was in no mood. She scolded Andromeda sternly for behaving like a boy and twisting her ankle in rough and tumble play. Downcast, Andromeda lost her voice, and hobbled over to Narcissa, leaving Bellatrix alone in front of their mother.

Druella rounded on her eldest daughter. Look at her sleeve! Torn from shoulder to elbow! What had they been doing? Jumping from the tree? Her gaze drifted up and she caught the unnerving sight of the elf stuck in the branches. What on earth! Clicking her tongue in annoyed frustration, she waved her wand and levitated the elf down before attempting to rouse it out of unconsciousness. The elf was alive, and started to shake with fear as it's vision cleared and it took note of the face of the Mistress and Young Misses staring down. Druella didn't even bother to suggest that the elf explain how it had gotten into the tree in such a state. She merely summoned another elf who took the injured one away.

In a quiet and deadly tone, Druella demanded to know what had happened from the three girls. She addressed Andromeda first, knowing full well that Bella was at the heart of this mess. Andromeda stammered and wouldn't look Bella in the eye as she recounted the events. Druella then asked Narcissa for confirmation, her hard state glowering angrily.

"Where is the wand?" Mrs. Black demanded.

Bella scowled and pulled it out from her pocket. "Nothing bad happened – it was only a bit of fun," she huffed. Andromeda winced as her sister's words; her ankle was very painful, and the poor elf would be in even more pain.

Druella waved her wand, and magically Bella felt herself being dragged by the ear back to the house. Druella said not one word, and from her silence Bellatrix knew she was in deep trouble. In the parlour, the spell deposited Bella on the nastily hard horsehair stuffed chair. Andromeda shuffled in with Narcissa's assistance, and was sat down on the sofa. Druella tapped Phineas Nigellus' wand across her palm three times. Bella tried to stare her mother down defiantly, but lost miserably under the relentless force of her mother's eyes. Druella handed the wand to Narcissa, who welcomed the chance to leave the stifling confines of the parlour.

Bella stared morosely at the ground. It wasn't that she had nearly killed a house elf that had made Druella so angry. House elves were replaced. There were any number of them out there, and the death of an elf wasn't anything to get yourself worked up about. It wasn't like they were human. No, it was the fact that Bella had disobeyed her mother, and trespassed in her father's study in an attempt to navigate her mother's blockages on Bella's flying.

"You have deceived me, Bellatrix," Druella said in a low tone, as she attended to Andromeda's ankle. "I told you that you were not to have a broomstick, because I could not trust you to act appropriately. You are a foolish girl, and I dread to think how you might disgrace us at Hogwarts. I am seriously inclined to believe that it might be better for you to be sent to Grimmauld Place, and be taught by your grandmother."

"You can't," Bella said sulkily. "I have to go to school. I can't do magic anywhere else."

"Other arrangements can be made. Young witches are not required to be taught at Hogwarts. Home tutoring is perfectly acceptable. In your case, I think it might be wise. We would save this family a lot of embarrassment."

Druella stood up, and waved Andromeda out of the room. The girl left, but not before she cast a slightly sympathetic look at Bellatrix, who ignored it.

"You have three weeks before the school term starts," Druella stated. "That gives you three weeks to prove to me that I can trust you to behave in a way that will not shame your ancestors."

When Cygnus Black arrived home later that evening, his wife and daughters were gathered in the parlour. Narcissa and Andromeda were sitting quietly, planning new dresses for their dolls' wardrobes. Druella was completing her knitting, and Bella was sitting stonily on the sofa, a large book entitled _The Virtues of Purity: Salazar Slytherin's Noble Legacies_ balanced on her lap. This was her grandmother's idea of reminding her grandchildren of the importance of their heritage. Bella would have preferred something less dull.

"I hear you have been to get your school things today Bella?" Cygnus commented, depositing his cloak and staff on the table for it to be collected by a house elf.

"Yes," she replied sulkily.

"Well, here is something to celebrate your starting school." With a flourish, he reached back into the hall and brought forth a brand new broomstick.

_The Virtues of Purity_ hit the ground with a thump, but Bella wasn't bothered with dog-eared pages. The day's events and disgrace were shed from her memory as she snatched up her prize, and sprinted far away to try it out. Druella shook her head in disapproval. Andromeda and Narcissa took in the looks between their parents, and quietly left the parlour.

"Did you not receive my message," Druella asked her husband.

Cygnus shook his head. "Yes, yes. But she has been punished? Well, no need to take it further. She's got spirit, Bella has. She'll go far. Spirit and pride and purity of the blood. An excellent and talented young witch. I have no doubt that she will make me proud someday."

Outside, Bella ran her fingertips over the engraved name on the broomstick. A wicked grin spread across her face, as she mounted the broom and kicked off into the air. As the wind rushed past her face, and the ground fell far below, Bella whooped in glee. What would it take to get picked for the Quidditch team?


End file.
